


‘cause you’re my painkiller (then with just a touch, leave me here in ruins)

by chocolatecrack



Series: of unrequited love and broken hearts (and the boys that bear them) [2]
Category: Johnny's Entertainment, SixTONES (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, M/M, Rejection, Shintaro-centric, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolatecrack/pseuds/chocolatecrack
Summary: Shintaro was scared of losing the boy he had grown to dedicate his heart to. To pour his love to. He was scared of losing someone he had already fallen in love with.
Relationships: Jesse Lewis/Morimoto Shintarou
Series: of unrequited love and broken hearts (and the boys that bear them) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047160
Kudos: 7





	‘cause you’re my painkiller (then with just a touch, leave me here in ruins)

**Author's Note:**

> akanemaraschino @ Twitter || chocolatecrack @ LJ || scenesinmoonstruck @ Tumblr for talks  
> https://curiouscat.qa/akanemaraschino for more talks
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/GrenadineDream if y'all wanna leave a little tip for the heartbreak of the words in this piece of work
> 
> thank you for reading. i appreciate every single one of you. i really, really, do.

_I miss you but I'd rather be alone  
_ _To keep me from  
_ _Heartbreaks, headaches_

 _Something 'bout your eyes  
_ _I can't even walk in a straight line  
_ _Under the influence_

* * *

Shintaro didn’t know where he was supposed to stand.

He liked being sure of things. He liked knowing where things would go, where things belonged, what he was supposed to do, what things meant. It was why he always spoke what was on his mind. He was never really a fan of uncertainty, unless it came from the sea. The only unpredictable thing he could ever really deal with were the waves, and how they came crashing down the shore every which way, never really following patterns. That was the only thing he wanted that he wasn’t sure of. The only thing he wanted that he couldn’t guess.

“Shintaro? Are we going?”

Except it wasn’t the only thing he wasn’t sure of. And he didn’t know what to do about that.

“Yea, just packing up. Start the car for me?”

Their fingers touched as he handed the set of keys, jingling and tinkling and sounding like the way the older boy’s eyes would sparkle.

“Sure,”

And he smiled. That smile. _That smile._

Jesse.

Shintaro was never really sure of Jesse.

He was sure Jesse was always there. Was sure that Jesse would be there for him no matter what, whenever he would need him, with whatever it was. Jesse was there during late night dinners and early morning breakfasts and spontaneous lunches. Jesse was there when Shinataro didn’t feel like talking to anyone except the stars, and the boy who shone brighter than them. Jesse was there when Shintaro wanted to talk endlessly about his day and how it went, and he would religiously listen without missing a beat. Jesse was there through the pain, the happy, the good, the bad, the ugly, and every single thing that was possible.

Jesse was a constant.

But Shintaro was never really sure of Jesse.

He was never sure what Jesse’s smiles meant. Because, and he _swore_ he was imagining things sometimes, but there were smiles that were reserved for him. _Only_ for him. The kind that he didn’t give to anyone else.

He was never sure of why Jesse laughed with him differently, and why it wasn’t his usual explosive laughter but more of a subdued kind. Lower. More genuine. More sincere. More intimate.

He was never sure why Jesse chose to _always_ spend their birthdays together. And he never missed a single birthday, at all. It didn’t matter that they had packed schedules. Jesse would go out of his way to make sure that Shintaro spent June 11 with him, and that he spent July 15 with Shintaro. He once said that the world could crash and burn and decide to end. As long as he spent his last birthday with Shintaro, then nothing else mattered.

He was never sure why Jesse let him hear the songs he wrote first. Told him that it wasn’t because he couldn’t share them with anyone else, but because he didn’t want to. That he wanted Shintaro to only be the one to hear them, or to be the very first one to. To know what they meant, know how they were constructed, know how they came to be, know how they came to fruition. He wanted it to be Shintaro, and no one else.

And he was never sure why Jesse constantly mentioned him, talked about him, brought him up, brought him along, pointed him out. He wasn’t sure why Jesse would do that when there were so many others. There were 4 other people in their group. Jesse’s contact list in his phone had an insane amount of people. Jesse could get along with anyone, could pick anyone else, could go out with anyone he wanted. Shintaro wasn’t sure why Jesse constantly went to him.

Shintaro was tired of being unsure. He wanted to do something about it.

But he was scared.

He was too damn scared of losing their binge eating during yakiniku nights. Losing trips to the beach where Jesse insisted he come with when Shintaro surfed. Losing Disneyland adventures while they took care of their mutual friend’s daughter. Losing group filmings and rehearsals and hangouts where Jesse would choose to be beside him over 4 other people he could have easily chosen. Losing smiles and laughter that Jesse had only for him.

Shintaro was scared of losing the boy he had grown to dedicate his heart to. To pour his love to. He was scared of losing someone he had already fallen in love with.

The car was already running when Shintaro saw it from afar, in the parking area. He saw Jesse inside, drumming his fingers against his knees while he waited, looking around aimlessly. He turned his head and spotted Shintaro looking, beaming and smiling after, waving big and beckoning the younger boy over. Shintaro’s heart swelled. He didn’t want to lose him. He didn’t want to.

So he chewed the inside of his cheek, contemplating whether or not to go for it. For the risk. If it was worth this. What weighed more, his exhausting uncertainty, or his affection. He didn’t know what to do.

Shintaro slid into the driver’s seat, trying his best to smile.

_Smile, Shin. It’ll be fine. He’s here. He’s still here. Still._

“Did you wait long?” he asked as calmly as he should. _Breathe._

Jesse shook his head a no, smiling at him again with _that_ smile. That smile. Shintaro wanted to tattoo it into his memory. Just in case.

“Not really,” the smile faded though, Shintaro noticed. And he knew that Jesse noticed too. “Is everything okay?”

It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. Or it was, but it wasn’t going to be, anymore. Not anymore. Not after this. Not after what was going to happen.

“I don’t think so,” Shintaro always told the truth. No matter what it entailed.

Jesse visibly frowned. Shintaro hated that he caused it.

But he had to do this. It had to happen. So he turned the car off and pulled the key out of the ignition, not wanting the sound of the engine to drown anything out. Not his words, not his feelings, not the truth. He wanted it to be crystal clear when he told Jesse. When Jesse would finally find out.

“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked, genuine concern laced in every corner of voice, every note in his words.

Everything was.

“I just…” Shintaro started.

Where was one to start anyway, when it came to things like this? To things like you and your best friend, and you might want him a bit more than what was expected. What was necessary. What was usual.

“I was just thinking,”

Jesse nodded, a tell he was paying attention. Shintaro hated that he knew that much about him.

“You know how...” he said, then he hesitated. Should he do this? Should he go through with it? Then Jesse looked at him with eyes that swam with a care that Shintaro didn’t know where to place.

Yes. He should.

“We’re always together, right?” Jesse nodded again, Shintaro noted, “birthdays, random dinners, amusement park trips, even for work.”

It was obvious that Jesse wanted to say something too, but he let Shintaro continue, wanting to hear the rest of what he had to say.

“And you constantly, I don’t know. Mention me. Talk about me. Say my name,” Shintaro could already hear it, even, in that voice of his. That certain tone, that certain curl of vocal cords together that made it unique. The way Jesse said his name. _Shin._

He had to focus.

“And I can easily call you my best friend. I know that. And you can call me that, too,”

Best friend. Shintaro wasn’t sure if he should be happy he was Jesse’s, or sad that he was _only that_ for Jesse. Another to add to the list of things Shintaro wasn’t sure about. Another to add to the list of things Shintaro wanted to just _clarify_ already.

“Right, yea, of course,” Jesse was getting impatient with the lack of words. Lack of conversation. It was obvious.

He really should just spit it out.

“Is that it, Jesse?”

Jesse leaned back, eyebrows furrowing, confused look on his features that Shintaro was surprised to see. “It? What do you mean?”

“Is that all there is to it?” he wanted to know. He _needed_ to know.

To know that light night talks on the phone, drunken nights of Jesse taking care of him when he was too intoxicated with shots and alcohol and life, drives and trips and vacations together that they all planned out, secret glances, whispers of _you’re the only one who knows,_ sharing hotel beds and sheets and pillows and laughter… Shintaro needed to know. He needed to know if that was all there was to it. Moments. Pure moments of bliss that didn’t amount to anything. That didn’t _mean_ anything.

Or if they meant so much more. If they meant what he hoped they would.

And he was afraid of the result. He was afraid of either result. Whatever it was that Jesse would answer, he wasn’t sure if he could take it.

But he still needed to know.

“If you mean if I like doing those things with you, then yes, I do,” Jesse answered, and it frustrated Shintaro because that wasn’t the question. Shintaro knew that already. He knew Jesse wanted to do those with him, to _be_ with him. But _why_ did he? “But if you—”

“That wasn’t what I was asking,” Shintaro gripped the steering wheel tight, before counting to 5, then letting it go completely. He hated being unsure. He hated uncertainty. He hated it more that it was with _Jesse,_ of all people. Jesse meant too much.

“Then what is it?”

“I mean that I… that I’ve... “

_That I love you. I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you. With all of you._

Shintaro finally turned to Jesse’s direction, eyes glassy with tears wanting to pour like a hurricane rain, his heart pounding like an army of men getting ready for war, palms sweaty and hands shaking, heart on his goddamn sleeve, feeling bare naked and exposed. Shintaro finally turned to Jesse’s direction. And Jesse knew that look all too well.

“Jess, I’m—”

_In love with you._

It never came. Because. _Because._

“Oh,”

Oh. _Oh._

Shintaro knew what that meant. A simple sound, like an arrow piercing his chest.

Oh.

“I’m…” Jesse said, an apology already in his eyes, already forming on his lips. Shintaro knew what was to come. He let it happen anyway. “Shin, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

He didn’t.

“And it doesn’t mean…”

It doesn’t.

“And I don’t…”

No. He didn’t, it doesn’t. _He_ doesn’t.

_I didn’t know you were in love with me. And it doesn’t mean anything._

Sometimes, Jesse spoke in tongues. Riddles that Shintaro wanted so badly to solve, a puzzle Shintaro wanted to complete only to not be able to, because apparently all the pieces weren’t there yet.

“I don’t feel—”

_I don’t feel the same way._

Now, all the pieces were here. The puzzle was complete. The riddle was solved. Shintaro liked being sure, and he didn’t like uncertainty. And now it was clear.

_I don’t love you the way you love me._

Jesse didn’t need to say the words for Shintaro to understand. He knew it already.

“Right,” Shintaro gulped, turned away and hitched a breath. The space between them was too small, the atmosphere too thick, the aura too heavy.

Right. Nothing was right. But it was the truth. It was the truth he wanted to know. It was the truth that was here. Right.

Shintaro took a deep breath, nails digging into his palm, keys trapped in a fist, heart slowly falling apart.

“Shin…”

No. Jesse shouldn’t.

So he put the key in the ignition and the car roared to life, the engine drowning out the sound of his heart shattering inside his chest. He took the car out of park and stepped on the gas, maneuvering his way out of the parking lot and incoming breakdown. Tokyo blurred through as Shintaro drove, knowing the route like the back of his hand, like breathing in and out. He needed to breathe in and out.

When he reached his destination, he turned the car off again, and was reminded that his heart was breaking too much for his liking, a deafening sound that he had to force himself to recover from. He was parked in front of the building of Jesse’s apartment, waiting for the boy to step out of the car so he could watch him walk away in more ways than one.

“I’m sorry,”

He shouldn’t say that.

“Don’t be,”

Because Jesse never asked to be loved in that way. That was on Shintaro, anyway. Jesse wasn’t at fault for that.

Jesse could only nod, and Shintaro could only pretend that things were okay. That things were going to be. That his heart didn’t feel like it was ripped out of his chest and trampled over by a bulldozer with no forgiveness and no hesitation. It wasn't Jesse who did that. It was himself.

“I’ll... “ Jesse wanted this fixed. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jesse wanted this still, at least. And maybe that was enough. Maybe it should be enough.

Shintaro didn’t speak for fear of what he might say and for fear of how his voice might come out. He was scared of a lot of things. But he was scared of losing Jesse the most.

So he nodded in agreement.

He saw Jesse attempt to reach out for him, only to hesitate and pull his hand back. Instead, he reached for the door handle and opened the car door, leaving a last glance to Shntaro before he stepped out of the car. He walked until the entrance to the building, stopping in his tracks, like he hesitated going inside.

And Shintaro waited with bated breath. Maybe. _Maybe._ Hope was sickening. Hope was exhausting. But hope was all that he had.

And yet.

Jesse lifted a hand and opened the door to the entrance of the building, walking in, and walking away.

Right.

Shintaro should’ve known than to trust hope too fucking much. So much for that.

He nodded to himself, asked the ruins that Jesse left, if the ruins of his heart was okay—it wasn’t—and drove off. And as he did, memories of Jesse’s smile clouded his mind. Something he wasn’t sure of, and now he was. That it didn’t mean what he thought it meant. That it meant something else.

And maybe he could drown it out with the sound of ocean waves crashing, white seafoam at the edge of shore, sand hot beneath his feet as the sun blanketed him with a warmth that felt familiar. Like someone’s laughter. A laughter he was used to. A laugh he should stop getting used to.

The sea had no pattern. The sea, he couldn’t control. The sea was unpredictable.

But the sea, Shintaro knew, could make him forget about it all.


End file.
